“Guilt is always jealous” – John Ray
Thoughts on a melancholy Thursday evening last week.
My children are finally in bed and I’m left with me, a baked ziti to make for a new mom, and guilt. The latter being an ever-present shadow waiting for the good, the bad and the downright lazy days.
Oh, we had fun today. We laughed. We sang. I cheered while they ran (or crawled) in circles. But I did no mommy-projects. I had no great ideas (except for the one where I CHEERED instead of RAN). Mostly, I found toys that were requested or pick out toys that occupied them.
I sat with them. We talked. I tried to get a few things done. I rested. I wasted time on the Internet.
I know this makes me a normal mom. It’s the end of the week. N was awake quite a bit last night. We’re on a long stretch of snow days and school delays. My husband’s day-off isn’t until tomorrow. (I know. I know. I have a husband who only works four days each week when he’s not on-call. I get NO sympathy there.)
Despite all the logic and understanding I FEEL GUILTY.
And I HATE THAT!
Back in the pre-mommy days, if I wasn’t a diligent employee, did I go home and cry? No!
I thought: Whoo-hoo! I’m home! More emailing, Internet-ing, and sitting!
I thought: This is normal end-of-the-week blahs. T.G.I.A.F.
(Thank Goodness It’s Almost Friday! Okay I never actually thought that. I’m MUCH cooler.)
And I didn’t think about it again.
I promise you that I NEVER thought: I’m a terrible person. And my boss and fellow employees acted-out today because I didn’t give them enough attention.
Clearly, I’m not the best employee, but this mom gig is going to send me OVER THE EDGE if I don’t put an official ban on the mom-guilt.
If only I knew how.